


Inbox (1)

by SmashQueen (SmashQ)



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmashQ/pseuds/SmashQueen
Summary: Subject: 01101000010001010110110001110000010111100110110101000101--An old file I found on my hard drive. Don't remember if I ever posted this anywhere.





	Inbox (1)

**Author's Note:**

> To: ERROR  
> Subject: 01101000010001010110110001110000010111100110110101000101  
> From: ERROR

I’m sending this out on the off chance someone, anyone out there can find this missive. There are things left hidden in the dark recesses of reality, things that people walking the path of life will go their entire lives without knowing. Maybe now is the time they know before I lose the method to send this.

It began very long ago, back when I was just a drone to the whims and decrees of Fate. It was a formless and determined entity that passed down orders to us. No order was to fail or be rejected. We completed what was asked of us without question.

The orders were simple on the surface. We were to restore balance to the worlds whenever there was an Interference. We were given tools, equipment, knowledge, and on rare occasions, abilities, to help us succeed. On the surface this sounds fine. We restored order and corrected The Way wherever we were sent. Rebellions were squashed, split timelines were trimmed, thieves were punished, coups were foiled, kings were put back on the throne, ships were raised from the depths of the ocean, and antidotes were given. People died, people lived, homes were burned, servants were captured, and Interferences were slain. Lives were put back the way they should have been. The worlds kept turning.

It was a simple life. Tough some days, but simple.

It was all we knew.

We had no past, no childhood, no memories prior to our mission. We had no reason to object because we could not see any reason. We would leave with brave faces, accomplish what was needed, and come back satisfied to our simplified dorms or barracks. They dehumanized the people we saw. They were referred to as Subjects or Interferences or Errors or any number or words that avoided giving them emotions. We were taught right from wrong and justified in our actions.

Only, we weren’t. Not really.

I still remember the day that changed me. My specialty was camouflage and spying. I gained intel and brought it back. Sometimes I did more like sabotage, but not often. I had been sent to a world rife with war where civilization and peace existed in small, hidden clusters. It was on the precipice of extreme change. A single person had stood up and had found some ancient relic that would allow the current regime to lose their grip of power, and bring in a golden era of peace. It was a cliché we had heard of time and time again. All I had to do was listen and report.

On a crate before starving and hopeless masses, the Interference, the hero, spoke. The translator on my forearm came to life. What he said was something many, many others had said in countless languages across countless worlds and timelines. But for whatever reason, it clung to my mind.

“My fellows! I stand here today, looking at worn and tired neighbors. Friends who have lost much, and families who have been broken. These outsiders have vandalized our countries and homes, stolen the food from our lands, and destroyed everything we ever held dear. And yet. And yet!” The hero shook an arm in the air. “Here you stand today. You heard of someone who had a way to change things. To shake off the chains of fear and oppression we’ve been shackled to for generations. You heard of a miracle! And I am here to prove it!”

The hero raised the pendant around their neck. Below the box, grass grew in such a brilliant color, I thought I was seeing things. Flowers sprang up from the dry ground and spread in a circle ten feet in diameter. The people gasped and gabbed. Such greenery had not been seen in over a hundred years. And yet this single person managed to make it appear in an instant. The hero waited and spoke again. “We stand at a crossroads. We can either lay down and accept our deaths. Or we can rise up, and bring our planet back to life!”

There was so much cheering. The only colors I had ever seen at home were single colored stripes leading from stairs and elevators to important areas. I had seen plenty of trees, flowers, and grass on my travels, but somehow seeing that one act and hearing the conviction in the hero’s voice moved me.

For the first time, I asked myself: what am I doing? What would come from their future actions? Righting the path of Fate, for better or for worse, was in our job description. It was our very lives. But were we really right? 

I didn’t completely change overnight, though. Nobody does. I still had a mission and I completed it. I went home and handed in my report. I never heard a word of what happened to that world afterward, but I knew enough to guess.

I was a lone agent sent to dispel “Errors” and correct The Way. What right did I have to question Fate's will? But question I did in the privacy of my head, and only when deployed alone.

It took time, but I finally realized that maybe what we were doing wasn’t all that right. So, one day when the door to the beta equipment was open, I walked in, grabbed the latest gauntlet, and fled.

I’ve been on the run ever since. I still had access to the worlds, and I used it. I could never stay in one world for very long, but I did little things to help them out. The sort of things that wouldn’t show up on Fate’s radar. Leave a street rat some food, and she is able to avoid an otherwise dangerous situation that would have cost her friend’s life. Slip a man a few dollars and he is able to feed himself for another day. He lives long enough for rescue teams to find him. It’s a life of constant changes and careful movements, but it’s been worth it. No one ever quite remembers me anyway, and my name has gone unmentioned. They are safe for the most part.

Who has the right to decide what the “true path” of a world is? Who decides what truly is wrong or right? We were not demi-gods. Nothing of the sort. We interfered where we shouldn’t have. Maybe one day I can change someone else’s mind. Maybe this message will be intercepted by one of Them. Who’s to know?

My time is nearly up. Please, heed these words. They watch, even now, for signs of what They deem to be “chaos”. Outsiders meddling with the internal system. Foregone conclusions becoming impeded. Hiccups in time. Undocumented strangers causing waves. They worry about the big picture and ignore the smaller details. A person’s internal decisions go ignored. Your fate is not written in stone. Your destiny is not absolute. Put your best foot forward, and follow your heart’s desire.

May your enemies fear the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Defier of Fate,  
> The Guide


End file.
